The Last Day
by Rubygirl283
Summary: How Gary Oak's parents died... An important author note is in the beginning.


Author's Note: This is based on a timeline that was originally at 6th Floor, but since they've switched their name, I'm not sure where to find it, so I'll just sum it up. Professor Oak and a team of scientists that included Bill, and I'm sure some other people you know, created the PC system and the Pokeball. It used nuclear energy which leaked and then mutations and whatnot happened... and then people and animals began mutating into Pokemon. Or dying.

...Depressing, I know.

"Daisy..."

I heard my father call for me weakly from his bedroom. I rushed in, knowing well enough what was happening to him, even though I was just thirteen. Our parents always treated me like I was intelligent, like I was more than a thirteen year old. I knew it was selfish, and a disgusting thought, but I was afraid that I'd be just a little kid once my parents were dead.

Yes, that's right. They were going to die. There was no doubt about it.

Coming in, I saw that Dad was worse than when I checked in on him an hour ago. He still had the strength to clutch Mom's sleeping, sweating figure in his arms, but I doubted if he could do much else.

Both of our parents were sweaty, tired, and disfigured. Underneath the covers of the bed, they were naked, with several horrible bulbs of skin sticking from their torsos, legs, and arms. Most of the time, they slept, or became sick in pails that I or Gary brought for them.

Brushing what little hair hadn't fallen out of my dad's head yet (he wasn't that old, it was just where he was sick) out of his face, I stood by the bed, smiling gently at him. "Yes, Dad?"

He was breathing hard. "Would you... get... some water for me?" He huffed. Talking made him tired. I nodded and ran out to the kitchen and filled up a glass of tap water.

Bringing it back, I looked down at his thin coppery hair. Gary looked almost exactly like Dad, except that now Gary had far more hair than dad, and Gary had his gelled into this ridiculous style. I looked more like Mom, who was a natural blond. By now, though, it was grayed with stress, and both of our parents had far more wrinkles than when the quarantine went up.

Both of our parents were asleep. Chuckling, but knowing that this would be one of the last times I saw both of my parents alive, I set the glass down and sat in the recliner I'd pulled into this room when Grandpa told us to move them to their bedroom. I watched them breathe in and out, my mother's breath catching a few times, my father tightening his grip on her as best he could in his sleep.

Suddenly, his eyes opened. Due to the disease, his eyes, which used to be deep blue, were now a grayish color. His eyes swiveled around until they found me, but before he could speak, he broke into a coughing fit. I came over and held his hand, telling him the ritual, "It's okay," throughout the outbreak. When he was done, a few new spots of blood were on the sheets, and there were tears in his eyes. I handed him the water, and he took a few sips.

When he had had what he wanted, he turned to me with tired eyes and asked, "Where's Gary?"

"He's still asleep."

"But isn't it the middle of the afternoon?"

"Dad, we take shifts. He opted to stay with you in the middle of the night, remember?"

"Oh... right."

"And Grandpa's at the lab today, so he won't be helping me with you two. It's just me. Alright?"

"Alright."

I set him back down, and I watched as he flicked back into unconsciousness. I loved my dad, I knew he was suffering... I considered taking one of my pillows and just setting it on him, just to alleviate his pain. I've considered that many times, but this time was the closest I'd ever gotten to actually doing it. I knew I'd hate myself if I did, as well as Gary. Gary was only twelve. It wasn't like he could understand the situation. He refused to believe they were dying.

Gary was usually a very warm, kind, caring person. But ever since Mom and Dad got sick, he's been... cold. He's picked up the phrase, "Smell ya later," most likely from the fact that I smell like our parents rotting bodies. He does, too. Everyone smells like the dead, or like smoke from the burning bodies.

It's like he's in denial... it's not right. I hate to see him like this. But I think that if I were to kill Mom and Dad, even when he believes they'll live, I'm afraid it would stay that way. This entire thing has changed all of us, but I don't want us to stay this way.

I walked into the kitchen and picked up a graham cracker that was lying on the counter. It was stale, nothing like the kind I had when I was little. But this was how it was. I only nibbled on it, hoping to preserve our food for a little longer. We may have been better off with Grandpa getting more money than most for being a professor, but that didn't mean we were great.

I was just about to put the graham cracker up when Gary stormed into the kitchen. He saw me with it in my hand and screamed, "What're you doing, Daisy!"

Startled, I jumped, and the graham cracker landed on the floor. It smashed in half. Gary quickly scooped it up and ran over to stick it back in the pantry. "You're sneaking food, aren't you!"

I put both my hands on his shoulders. He tried to shake me off, but I held on tight. "No, Gary. I'm not. I haven't had anything to eat yet, and I was just taking a bite. Are you hungry?"

"No." He looked away from me, down at his feet.

"Then what's wrong?"

He looked around, at everything, everything but me. But finally, he looked up at me, my kid brother with his long, dark eyelashes, tears spilling over onto his face. He blushed and said, "I had a nightmare."

I hugged him, and he hugged me back. This was the Gary I remember. He was coming back to us.

As suddenly as it happened, he let go. Standing back, he cleared his throat and wiped the tears that had continued to leak from his eyes. He walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

I considered following him, but... Well, screw it, I'd follow him anyway.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

He turned to look away from me. He was sitting on the couch, staring at where our TV used to be. A few days into all of this, some people came in and destroyed our house while looking for supplies. We didn't have much left. All that we had came from Grandpa's lab, where he and Grandma used to live together until Grandma died. Now Grandpa comes and lives with us.

I sat down next to him. He turned to face away from me entirely, and scooted to the far end of the couch. I smiled, thinking about how immature he looked, but then frowned, realizing, _he's just a baby, with all of this going on... There will be no going back for him._

"Are you suuuure you don't wanna talk about it?"

"No."

"Then how about a drink of water? Or do you want some soda?"

"We're saving the soda for special occasions, remember?"

"Well, this is a special occasion... We need to cheer you up, Gary!"

He remained silent. I sighed, staring at his back. A few times he almost turned his head, like he was taking a double take. Just as I was about to get up, he turned back around with the same tears in his eyes as before, and he began spilling all of his nightmare out to me.

"I had a dream where there were spiders crawling all over me, like I was a dead body! And nobody had tended to me... I hadn't been burned. I hadn't even been moved from the house! I had no idea where you were, or mom or dad, or Grandpa! And I couldn't move! I was dead. It was really scary!"

By then, he had been blinded by his own tears. He fell into my arms as he sobbed, and I held him close, feeling his un-gelled hair. It was all messy, long, and scraggly looking, but it was better than the gel. We needed more moments like this, just us, brother and sister, because pretty soon, that would be all there was.

In the middle of the night, while I was attempting to sleep, I heard Gary come into my room. I didn't sleep with the covers on myself, so there was nothing to toss off when he cried, "Daisy, come here, Dad wants you! He says it's really important to get there fast!"

I ran down the hall. Was my dad dying?

As I looked in from the door, I knew I was correct. There was a large puddle of blood on the white sheets, it was fresh, it was wet, and it reeked. Gary, scared, ran to go get some water. Father beckoned me closer.

My head feeling light, I tip-toed closer. The whole experience felt surreal, maybe because it was the middle of the night, maybe because I knew my dad was dying. Maybe it was both. Either way, it felt like a dream where I was falling into a pit for forever and ever, tumbling down and hitting the sides, getting cut up on the way down to forever.

"Daisy. I'm dying."

He was unafraid. That made me proud. But the tears came to my eyes as it was finally said aloud. I reached out and held his hand, feeling it flex easily. "Yeah, Dad. I know."

He touched my face with the back of his hand, feeling my tears. He smiled. "Don't cry. It'll be alright in the end."

I shook my head. "No, Dad. This world is forever changed."

He nodded. "That's true, Daisy. But that doesn't mean we can't adapt. Do you want to know a secret?"

I bobbed my head up and down mutely. I didn't know what to say anymore. I just wanted to savor this last moment with my dad. Bending down to hear him better, he said, "What's wrong with your mother and I was caused by your grandfather."

From behind us, I heard Gary drop the plastic glass of water. Dad and I both looked at him, who was gaping at us and slowly shaking his head. He trembled. A few tears rolled down his eyes. "It's not true, is it, Dad? It's not true!"

Grimly, he said, "Yes, Gary, it is."

Gary walked to us and kneeled beside me to stare into Dad's fading eyes with disbelief. "But Grandpa loves you. He wouldn't do that to you! Or to Mom!"

"That's correct, he does love us. And he loves you, too. He never told you that it was partially his fault for our condition because he was afraid to lose you. But I want you to know that accidents happen. He didn't mean for this to happen to me, or to anybody."

Gary, still holding out hope, said, "But Grandpa's gonna help you get better, so it'll be alright. He can fix you."

Dad looked at me. A stray tear rolled down my cheek and he sternly told Gary, "No, I won't be getting better, Gary. I'm dying. I know it's hard to accept, but you can't just lie to yourself like this. I'm dying soon, maybe even tonight. Your mother as well. So I have to know that no matter what, you, your sister, and your grandfather will stick together as a family."

Gary clenched the side of the bed. "No, Dad. You can't die. Don't die." I reached over and took him into my arms and let him sob into my pajamas. "Who will I go fishing with? Who will go out and grill during the summer? Who's gonna teach me how to be grown up, like you?"

"I'd like nothing more than to be there to do all of those things with you. But my time here is up. I love you and your sister more than anything in the world, so please, stick together. The two of you, take care of each other, and your grandfather." With the last of his strength, he said, "I love you." Then drifted off to sleep. Gary cried on my clothes for a good while, then finally calmed down. I sat with him to watch Dad and Mom, and when I noticed that they'd passed in their sleep, he cried more.

In the months that passed after, Gary remained the same. That was the last day I ever saw the real Gary. I became more motherly to him, hoping he'd open up and show the real Gary, but alas, he never did. He was stuck in the "smell ya later" stage.

I miss my brother. I want him back.


End file.
